Missing Piece
by D4cHilliN
Summary: Can a cold hearted murderer become a caring father? With a little bit of practice, patience and love; Bulma believes it's very possible.


A/N: Hah. Looks who's back (points) SUPERMAN!

Nah, it's me ^_^ With another oneshot centering around the Briefs! Surprise. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy and leave lots of good reviews, haha. I'd appreciate it.

* * *

**Missing Piece**

* * *

_The best love is the kind that awakens the soul; that makes us reach for more, that plants the fire in our hearts and brings peace to our minds._

_----  
_

_No...no, no, no, no. Please, no._

The sound of heavy clacking high heels echoed through the large halls of Capsule Corporation. The sound twinkled in the air and gave off a slight signal of alarm as they increased, telling all listeners that the owner of the highly expensive shoes were in a hurry.

Or in distress.

_She couldn't find him._

Bulma Briefs made her way to each room adjourning the private chambers of the large, dome building that served as her and her family's residence while mustering up enough resolve to keep a fairly straight face even thought her heart was beating wildly, her palms were drenched in sweat and the unwanted prickle of fear crept up her spine. Upon arriving at the last room in the specific hallway she stood in, she poked her head of blue curls inside and frantically swirled her cerulean eyes around in inspection.

She saw nothing in the guestroom but a bed, dresser and chairs.

The fear started to spread and when she began backtracking, she found that her body had begun to shake.

_Where could he be!?_

The woman bit her lip to keep it from trembling. This just couldn't be so, couldn't be happening. She had _seen_ him. Just recently. Almost ten or so minutes ago. There was no way he could have gotten far in that short pan of time. He just..._couldn't_ have, Saiyan baby or not.

Bulma took a deep breath to steady her nerves and stopped in the hallway to lean against the wall and recall thoughts, memories,_ anything_. She had left eight month old Trunks for a second,_ a split second_, to grab a bottle. That was all. She hadn't spent extra time using the bathroom, talking to her mother, nothing at all. Her mind had solely been on the boy and feeding him. That was it. Yet, once she had waltzed back into his room and stared down at his crib, she hadn't seen him.

_She had lost her baby._

At first, she hadn't worried at all. It was almost a normal thing to her; Trunks had begun to easily distance himself from the crib beginning at only four or five months. Maybe with others, this would have been very paranormal but not to Bulma or her experiences. It was sad to think but she was more than use to inhuman characteristics.

Especially in her very own child who was, like his father, apart of an extinct and/or dying race of genetically powered warriors named Saiyans. And although Trunks was half human as well, he was well enough along to start experimenting with the powers attributed to him.

One of those powers included flying.

The baby hadn't mastered it yet, of course. Hell, it couldn't even be considered _flying_ yet. He had only been able to succeed at propelling himself into the air and bumping his head which, in turn, had terrified Bulma the first time. But, after seeing him laugh and giggle after wards, she had calmed. She knew from experience that Saiyans were hard headed, both figuratively and literally.

So, in the child's attempt at working with his powers, he often got out of his crib. So much in fact that Bulma had wrapped a small device around his wrists that indicated his location and was contemplating buying a bed with large bars around the edges.

But the indicator was either malfunctioning or, somehow, offline because she couldn't pick it up.

Trunks was gone and she had absolutely no idea where.

She had checked all rooms by his nursery over four times, searched outside, under beds, under his crib, in closest, anywhere he could wedge himself but found nothing. Asking her parents about his whereabouts had been futile. They were too preoccupied in their own work and interests. Besides, they hadn't taken her frazzled attitude serious enough. They had both assured her that he'd turn up, just like every other time. No biggie. Her parents were the epitome of optimistic.

Bulma wasn't as confident. She couldn't think of a time where he had disappeared for this long. Something was different. Wrong. Something she couldn't pinpoint.

Her jittery nerves and near to bursting heart was instantly smoothed out when she paused before the nursery and locked eyes on a peculiar yet relieving sight that made her knees buckle and almost caused her to pass out.

Trunks was sitting upright on his bottom, his legs curved inwards in a slight Indian style, chubby arms resting on them. The locator was lying behind him, torn beyond use with a few wires poking out. The boy's lips were pursed, his face was squinted in concentration and he was focusing on the man sitting across from him in the same position and with the same facial features.

His father; Prince Vegeta.

Bulma watched with curious eyes at the scene before her, wondering whether or not if she should interfere. It had never occurred to her that Vegeta would have been the culprit behind the disappearance of their son. Not that it was entirely surprising. In actuality, now that she thought about it, she _would_ have expected it. It should have been the logical choice and she would have seen that if it had been anyone else but her estranged husband.

She supposed her dismissal of his involvement had something to do with the fact that he hadn't shown much interest in his son these past couple of months. He hadn't shown interest in anything but his training actually. After the heroic defeat of Cell when the Futuristic version of the very same boy sitting down on the floor in front of them had made his way back to his own time, Vegeta had deceptively withdrawn himself from others, including Bulma, to spend hours inside of the Gravity Machine. The blue haired heiress hadn't really thought on it enough to become especially angry at him for it. She knew more than anyone else that when the man wanted to detach himself from the world, he would do so whether she complained or not. That hadn't kept her from doing it anyway, of course. The male's only reply to her rant had been short, indignant grunts however much to her frustration.

His mood swings and attitudes were almost second nature to her. She knew enough about his pasts and concepts to understand. Then again, all the understanding in the world couldn't keep her from feeling lonely and forgotten. She wasn't dependent on his attention. She was just a slave to her emotions.

But now, as Bulma watched him stare at their son, she felt a light feeling of happiness float through her chest but couldn't explain why. She tip toed sideways to shield half of her body and continued to speculate. Why risk breaking up the, _possibly_, only father/son interaction she would witness.

From the looks of things, it appeared that the two Saiyans were simply having a staring contest. But Bulma knew better. She would bet money that Vegeta was, on some level, teaching their son something. Maybe communicating mentally, maybe signaling. Something extraordinary that no other eight month old could dream of accomplishing.

Trunks suddenly broke gaze and started to giggle excessively.

Bulma blinked. Or they had really been having a staring contest...

Vegeta grunted in what sounded like disgust while he observed the purple haired baby thrash around and squeal in delight. He couldn't _fathom _how his genes had helped create such a...weakling. The boy wasn;t even able to hold his gaze for more than ten minutes. How could he be expected to focus in battle if he could not do so behind the front lines? Why, at his age, Vegeta had been well on his way to massacring large cities.

Trunks stopped his laughter to blink and roll onto his back. He started to coo and reach outwards towards the ceiling, seemingly studying his hands.

The widow peaked man furrowed his eyebrows in confusion but kept his face stoic, thinking back on his earlier comment. Training Trunks was going to prove harder than he first suspected but he was going to do it. He had made this decision upon first sighting the baby blasting into the air and knocking a hole in the wall. If nothing more, that scene had given Vegeta hope. Hope that his child wasn't going to take from the human side of him and become incredibly fragile. And, even if he didn't want to admit it, he didn't want the kid to continue to hit walls. The last thing Vegeta wanted was Trunks to grow up as idiotic and naive as his rival, Goku.

Yes, it would prove challenging to teach this toddler considering that he gave off such an aloofness about it. If only he could learn how to generate ki-

Vegeta was snapped from his thoughts at a sudden rise in energy. Both his dark eyes and the bright eyes of his hidden wife widened at their son who had his hand outstretched with a bright light gathering in its palm. The most spectacular thing however must have been the look on Trunks face; a wide grin.

The ball of light vanished almost as quickly as it appeared and, with it, Trunks' smile fell as well. Obviously, he was disappointed whether he knew what it was or not. He made a slight gurgling sound that could have resembled a sigh.

His father's eyes narrowed slowly. Hmph. Maybe he wasn't as weak as he last thought...

Bulma was not as enthusiastic however. She was actually pretty petrified. What happened when her baby learned how to hold that energy and accidentally shot someone? Like her parents? Her? _Himself_? How many walls was he destined to destroy?!

"Don't be stupid, woman." Came Vegeta's deep voice from inside the room, eyes remaining on his now giggling son. "None of that will happen. I'll make sure of it."

The fact that he both knew she was there and what she was thinking startled Bulma to the point of yelping and falling over on her side in a very classic animated style. She groaned, picked herself up and straightened her dress before facing her husband and son again.

Neither of them had acknowledged her excluding Vegeta's words. Trunks had crawled to his toy box (something that made Vegeta sneer; he couldn't see how the toddler could learn how to fly but not walk) and was being very selective about which one to play with while Vegeta got to his feet.

Bulma decided it was time for her to stroll in and smile graciously to mask her embarrassment at spying. Her smile crumpled at her mate's indifferent expression.

"Having fun?" She strained out, motioning towards Trunks who was scowling at a race car. The sight almost made her groan. He mirrored his father perfectly.

"As if I'd ever partake in anything fun with him." He replied flippantly. His harsh indication of their son made her frown and put hands on hips.

"Well, excuse me Vegeta for thinking that a father could have fun with his son. What a horrible mockery that would be." She stated dryly, bending over to pick up the destroyed device on the floor.

Vegeta commented on it before she even asked, "He's a Saiyan, not some sort of animal who needs to be put on a leash."

"It wasn't a leash." She retorted back quickly in anger. "I used it to find out where he was-"

"I always know his whereabouts. The device is not needed."

"Well that means I'd have to ask you all the time and _that_ would imply that you're always around to ask." Bulma pocketed the piece of scrap metal. She got a glare from the man but he only huffed. "There you go," Was her sarcastically happy statement. "Same old Vegeta. Can't hold conversations to save his life. You need better people skills."

"And I suppose you need better mothering skills."

The sharp comment infuriated Bulma so much, her face started to burn bright red. It always amazed her how fast she could go from speaking to Vegeta to fighting heatedly with him. It took her a full minute to calm herself and shake it off. _He had no right to insult my mothering skills_, was her furious thoughts,_ especially not when he was barely apart of Trunks' life to begin with_. But she bit her tongue and kept the words to herself. She wasn't going to fight with him. Not today. Shaking her head, she stomped over to Trunks who was making race car noises and kneeled down to ruffle his thick purple hair.

Trunks, finally noticing his mother, turned to grin up at her and stretch out his arms. Whatever anger that had been residing in her quickly dissipated and she took the boy in her arms while laughing.

Vegeta watched the display with a quizzical yet disdainful stare. Why did she insist on making contact with Trunks? He was a Saiyan male, damn it. He didn't need to be smothered with tenderness that would make him feeble. Didn't she understand that?

Yet, the Saiyan male couldn't shake a grating, annoying feeling in his chest. One that confused him more than the event before him. A feeling of being...ignored. Ignored by his wife for the boy.

On some hidden level, Vegeta was jealous. But of what?

Bulma made a face that caused Trunks to break out in snorts and high pitched giggles.

_Jealous of the fact that his mate and son could be, _were_, happy. Happy together. Without him in the picture._

Trunks clapped his two chubby hands over his mother's cheeks and Bulma burst into laughter again.

_They didn't need him._

His son poked her in the eye and she yelped once before mock scolding him.

_He was expendable._

"You're still here."

Vegeta turned to glance at Bulma who had set Trunks down so he could crawl away.

"You can leave you know." Was her indifferent statement. "You won't have to _bother_ yourself by spending time with us."

She was angry, he could easily sense that but he wasn't sure why. His earlier statement about her mothering capabilities was probably most of the reason. He wasn't sure what had possessed him to say it but he now regretted doing so. He didn't really think she was a bad mother. Shit, he thought she was a damn good one. She was a much better mother than he was a father.

Which was what? Pitiful? Irritating? Inspirational?

Before Vegeta watched his Future son die right in front of him, he had never experienced a certain amount of emotions. He had never felt so...broken. He had never felt such a big hole form in his chest. That hollow, impossible-to-be-filled void that had transformed into burning rage at the loss. He had told himself, _promised himself_, that he never go through that terrible feeling again. He just would not.

And yet it was reappearing. And, ironically, it was by his own fault this time. _He_ was the one building the wedge between him and his family.

His_ family._ _He had a _family_._

Bulma blinked in surprise while she watched Vegeta walk over to her. He had always been and still was an unpredictable man so she just held her breath and waited to see what he'd do and/or say.

The Saiyan Prince slowly took a seat beside her, making a crooked triangle with Trunks twirling before them. He folded his arms across his chest and muttered, "I..._suppose _I could stay here instead of training. But only for a few more minutes."

She stared at him in disbelief before smiling warmly and kissing him on the cheek much to his abhorrence. Trunks turned and began crawling back to his parents, tongue hanging out.

"Maybe he is a dog."

Bulma snickered but still shoved him. There were a few beats of silence before Vegeta spoke again in a low voice, "I couldn't ask for a better woman to birth and teach my son."

The blue haired woman paused to stare at him again and couldn't keep the tears from collecting in her eyes. It was rare, very rare, to hear genuinely kind words from her husband. This was why she became so emotional when he did speak from his heart. She knew that, in his own way, he was apologizing and amending. He was making an effort. It was more than she had gotten a few months ago.

"Right back at you." She smirked, receiving a confused look from him. She laughed at his clueless expression and pinched his cheeks playfully which only gained a heavy roll of eyes. Trunks, who had finally made it back to them, stopped and blinked up at them both. He then stretched his arms out to his father and started to coo and gurgle.

Vegeta's reaction made his wife realize this was the first time their son had prompted to be picked up by him. The Saiyan Prince furrowed his eyebrows and made no action to move.

Bulma picked the purple haired toddler up and sat him on the man's shoulders. Vegeta simply blinked at that but didn't remove the child while he fiddled around vigorously in the spiked, flamed dark locks, trying to get a good grip. She smiled at the scene. She knew that he probably wouldn't completely disregard his views to hold Trunks. _Yet_. It would take time and they had it. All the time in the world, actually. Vegeta let a small smirk pass across his features as he stared up into the blue eyes of his son who was hanging over his forehead.

Vegeta chuckled when Trunks knocked him on the head with a small fist. For a baby, he _was_ pretty strong. He saw a flash to his left and turned right in time to see his blue haired wife snap off another picture.

"Woman." He growled threatening, his son dangling off his head, giggling like a maniac while his dad slowly rose to his feet. "Give it to me."

She simply stuck out of her tongue and smiled smugly. Vegeta rivaled hers with his own trademark smirk and slowly sat Trunks down on his butt. He started stalking forward but was, once again, taken aback by his son when the boy slowly levitated into the air. The parents shared a look of shock and awe.

"He's flying."

"And not bumping into anything." Bulma added.

Trunks, who looked extremely proud of his feat, started twirling his arms around in the air and laughing. Vegeta put on an evil look. "Trunks, lets play a game."

Bulma was more than surprised when the boy glanced at his father as if he understood his words. She knew the purple haired boy was highly perceptive and smart beyond his young years (_months_) but she hadn't expected to see such a keen glint in his blue eyes.

"You see that device in your mother's hand? Get it."

Bulma scoffed. There was no way Trunks could understand-

Her eyes widened as she observed her son zigzag forward in the air right towards her. She let out a bark of laughter at his sad attempt at capturing but shrieked and took off at a dead run when Vegeta came lurking her way.

Shrieks of laughter, high pitched giggles, thumps of footsteps, clacking of heels and gurgling sounds were heard echoing through the hallways while the two Saiyans went about retrieving the camera. The three all ended up right back in the nursery with Vegeta and Bulma lying on the after a tug of war match and Trunks lying his chest. Vegeta held the camera up to showcase his victory and smirked in triumph. She sat up and rolled her eyes before elbowing him hard in the side, gaining a low grunt and her eyes traveled down to their son who had fallen asleep, curled on his father's stomach.

"So?" She asked breathless, exhausted from her running.

"So what?"

She turned to shoot him a dazzlingly smile. "You '_partook_' in fun with your son and it wasn't so bad, was it?"

He scoffed. "Fun? This had nothing to do with fun. I was on mission to obtain this camera."

Bulma rolled her eyes again and sighed. "Of course you did." Before he could comprehend, she snatched the camera back and snapped another picture. "Uh uh uh!" She wagged her finger at him when he made a move to sit up while standing up and dancing backwards. "Don't want to wake him up."

Vegeta growled but didn't move. Instead, he made a motion with his finger; sliding it across his throat to signal he was going to kill her.

She only smiled at the threat, bowed and skipped out, intent on processing the pictures before he came after her.

He was stubborn, she knew. It was one of his strongest attributes. He wouldn't want his soft side to be exposed. He didn't like to show weakness. And, once upon a time, loving someone was considered weak to him.

But he had changed. She had reformed his view and made him see the truth for what it was. Love wasn't a weak emotion. It was incredibly strong. It was everlasting. It was one definition of forever.

Maybe one day, Vegeta would see that with his son as well. Maybe he would let go of enough pride to take him to the park or read him a story or simply tuck him in for bed. Something that didn't solely involve training and fighting. And he might even hug him. He just had to get use to it. Had to get used to having a family. To being a father. To both giving and receiving love.

But, for now, Bulma was satisfied with just spending a few extra minutes of the day with all three of them together.

He hadn't known it before but Vegeta hadn't been the extra, unneeded part of the puzzle.

He had been the piece missing.


End file.
